


Dead Letters

by Lydialafayette



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: F/M, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-05-29 14:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6379156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lydialafayette/pseuds/Lydialafayette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Fryes came to London to save the world. Though, in their attempt to save London, the ones they love may get caught in the crossfire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The dance begins

D.C. Al Fine  
Jacob  
I fell asleep calmly. It was a peaceful night there were no stars in the sky. Just the moon as it forced its light between the clouds and my window. It was the first night bombs weren’t falling. I knew I needed to leave London soon. I was not as nimble as I once was. I finally sink into my old bed in Whitechapel and close my eyes. When i wake up there is a woman standing at the foot of my bed. Her long thick black hair fell gently over her shoulders. The muscular contours of her body could be seen through a thin white gown. That is how I saw her almost every night. She starts to sing. Her voice is a small innocent one that floats gently into my ear. It is a song I’ve never heard before I fear what it says. The dark message I know has been coming. I have been afraid to know the truth. A tear falls from on her cheek as she sings.  
“ Those you’ve pained may carry that still with them. All the same we tell you all forgiven. Still your heart says the shadows bring the starlight and everything you’ve ever been is still there in the dark night.” I feel it hurt me. The same way I hurt her. The small amount of forgiveness burns into my soul. The dead letters tumble out of her mouth. I am crying now. The sadness of knowing the one person you want… no... need, being so close but too far away to grasp. The pain of knowing if you had just been a little faster. Just been a bit stronger. She wouldn’t be dead. They wouldn’t be dead. Another voice joins on a counter melody. The words different but the impact is still the same the song is soft and sweet as my heart beats out of my chest. This voice is a small boy. It is high. His voice has yet to deepen. He can barely be ten. Then the voices stop. I look up from my cowering position. The boy looks at me with bright blue eyes. I see a scar begin to creep across his face. He doesn’t respond. He just looks confused.  
“Daddy, I need you.” Then he collapses. No… No…not again. I can’t stop him. I need to stop me. I can’t hurt anyone else. I reach for the knife on my bed side table. Someone grabs my hand. I shoot up from my bed. My sister Evie is sitting next to me in a chair she is holding my hand.  
“ Jacob, I heard you crying. I found your knife and moved it. I grabbed your hand when you started to thrash around.” I slow my breathing. The boy and the woman are gone. I say goodbye to them for tonight. I know they will be back tomorrow.

January 2nd, 1868  
It is a new year and a new city. I can’t say London is the brightest place I’ve ever seen though the rooks will make it better. We are going to give this city back to the people who built it. The rooks don’t really exist yet. Though they will, despite Evie’s attempts to make it not so. I’ll show her. We are helping Greenie avoid Kaylock, The templar in charge of whitechapel, Evie seems more “excited” about protecting Greenie than I am. There is not much left to report today.  
To my dearest trusted Journal,  
Jacob Frye  
P.S. You are not a diary no matter what Evie says.

January 3rd, 1868  
My Dear Friend,  
I need to record what happens here. The president needs a record of my activities. I will use this to help inform him. I couldn’t record anything my first couple days here I was too busy moving in. I live in Lambeth. Poor enough no one will look for me there, though close enough to the place and parliament I can get there quickly. Whosoever controls London controls the world. I know London is controlled by templars. I’ve had plenty experience with them. I’ve tried to get links within the town. Pearl Attaway controls one of the biggest transportation companies in London. She is directly related to Crawford Starrick. The templars I’ve spoken to in America have informed me of that. The American government might be able to secure some specific deals with Attaway transportation. I haven’t been able to relax for a moment. We can’t let England hurt United States interests again. Reopening trade with them will be difficult considering their extensive colonies. Though you just need to make the right friends and then know when to make them enemies. I need to stop writing it is three in the morning. I must sleep. I will write soon.  
My dearest Journal,  
Elizabeth Lincoln.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote from the woman in Jacob's dream is from "Those you've known" from Spring Awakening. Just saying that so I don't feel bad about quoting another work. :)


	2. Give Me The Cure

Evie   
October 29th, 1914   
Jacob still has nightmares about them. I’ve had to be careful where I let him go. Anything can trigger him. Weather it be someone wearing a certain perfume, or a pub they used to go to. I know what he is going through. Losing someone they way he did… you don’t recover quickly, even after 30 years. I have started preparing to leave London. After the start of the war, we have simply been trying to survive. Lydia has been helping where she can, though she still has missions she must complete around London. She has taken over the gang. She told me that she was thinking about letting one of her lieutenants take over. She would like to focus more on her assassin work. I don’t blame her. I was not found of Jacob's idea to have a gang at first. Though the gang did help us take down Starrick. Jacob was so happy then. When It was the four of us. I thought if I left with Henry he would be okay. I should've never left. I should’ve convinced Henry to stay in London. Maybe I would still have them both if I had. I mustn’t think of that now. I have to focus on leaving. We are going back to Crawley. I hadn’t been there in years. Can’t say I miss it though. We came to London to find danger and did we find it. Now we return to Crawley to be safe. If we’re lucky the war will be over soon. Though, they always say that at the beginning of wars that it will be short. That rarely turns out to be true. Sam is going to leave for war soon. Lydia is trying to stop him though he won’t listen. I just want him to return home for Lydia’s sake. I don’t want her to go through what Jacob and I did. I can only hope for his safety right now. I know in a couple of days it is Emmett’s birthday. Jacob hasn’t spoken to him in a while. He lives in France now. With the threat of war, he volunteered to help protect the French people. We have to see how the war progresses. I don’t know if Jacob could handle losing someone else.  
Sincerely,   
Evie Frye 

 

Elizabeth  
January 5th, 1868

Dear Journal,   
Pinning down Ms. Attaway has not been an easy task. She is always in her carriage. Which means I have to run to catch the carriage, and because I must wear this god-forsaken corset I can’t catch her carriage. I did, however, learn of one of her associates ,a doctor John Elliotson. I was told he might be able to put in a kind word. I went to a presentation of his “experiments” if you can call them that. I was disgusted that I had to go to this event. I hate working with templars. I dislike having to try to find Ms. Attaway, let a alone dealing with more than one of them. I thought working with them was the only option. At the time, however, I only knew of one assassin in London. This mission rather painfully taught me that my intelligence on the assassins was less than complete.  
I got into the presentation by claiming I was a nurse at a hospital in the countryside. I was watching for “Training on the human brain.”. As I was entering Lambeth asylum. I noticed a strange man. He had patches all around his trousers. His jacket was torn and and covered with dirt. He had a scar in his eyebrow and his beard. He had multiple handkerchiefs hanging from his belt. I notice a small sliver ring with the assassin symbol on his pointer finger. The Handkerchiefs. The ring. This are signs of an assassin. However, he couldn’t be an assassin. They actually have class. I walk up next to him. He is glaring down onto the presentation room. I follow his gaze. The doctor was drilling into a man’s head. The patient is convulsing and he appears to be screaming though I don’t hear anything from up here. I am glad I am at least spared that. Suddenly, the doctor yanks out the drill the red liquid sprays out of the patient's head. His body is suddenly, unsettlingly still. I bow my head in respect for the doctor’s most recent victim. The man standing next looks over. “Are you alright miss?” I take a moment and compose myself.   
“Yes I am fine, sir. That poor man. Tortured in mind and body. At least he’ll be free.” I know I am laying it on a bit thick, though I need to make him believe my character. He nods.   
“I understand. Don’t worry he’ll stop hurting people very soon.” I look over to see he has a kukuri right inside his jacket. Oh, so this man is an assassin.   
“You are going to take him out aren’t you.” He steps back for a moment. “I didn’t think Henry Green would attempt an assassination like this.” He is shocked that I know this.   
“How do you…” I step in before he can continue.   
“ I know assassins and templars. I have assisted them both in hurting the other.” He looks confused for a moment. He looks at me for a second then grins.   
“Well, than you should know well enough to stay out of my way.” He walks in the other direction. I quickly grab his arm.   
“Wait.” He almost falls from the inertia from stopping. “If you want to get caught then you’ll go that way. There are too many guards by the door. You want less blood on your blade. Talk to the nurse in the other building she will help you find a safer root. Another option is the doctor’s assistant. He is downstairs. ”   
“Thanks, though I don’t need the help.” He shrugs off my hand. He is going to be the end of himself. I know it. Even an assassin can’t take that many guards. I already looked at the guard plans for this area in case something in my conversation with the good doctor went poorly. It now appears I have to protect this brute. I can’t let an assassin die. He is the quickest way to get the templars out. I won’t have work with the templars anymore. If he fails and they figure out I'm here. I won't be speaking to much of anyone . I think for a moment. Could I help move the guards? If some prisoners happened to escape, The guards would be watching them and trying to reel them back in instead of hunting my knew assassin acquaintance. I run to their cage. As I picked the lock on the cage. A man was leaning on the bars and he looked at me for a moment I stopped. He touched my hand through the bar. I grab his hand and lean close to him. “Get your friends.” He nods at me and then runs back into the corridor. I hear yelling sounds. I unlock the door and then run (well, I attempt to run. Again I am being strangled by my clothing device). I find another corridor and unlock it. The insane are beginning to escape. Some just curl up on the ground others run full speed out of their cage just for a chance at fresh air. Most wonder out unsure of what to do in this new, free world. This will at least spread out the guards and staff. I quickly leave the area. I am not stopped by anyone because they are too busy rounding up the prisoners. I walk back to the window. Another patient is rolled in. This patient is different though. The patients don’t wear boots. I take a breath. I hear myself breathing. That man’s life is almost over. He has no idea. I don’t care how horrible he is. I still can’t handle watching another person die . No matter how many people I’ve seen die, or how many deaths I've caused. No matter who they were. I feel the seconds tick by. I watch the hooded blur jump off the cart and pin down the doctor. The world flashed white for a second. Then the hooded man stood over the new body he produced. He takes one of his handkerchiefs and wipes it across the doctor’s neck. It picks up what little parts of him come dripping out of the newly minted hole in the doctor’s neck. There was peace for a moment.   
All hell broke lose. The assassin ran out the door as the guards run down from the top of the viewing area. The assassin runs out a side door and up the stairs. I notice the flash of the blade as he runs out of the room. I move toward the door I can’t run because of this infernal contraption that I must wear. The room feels huge I hear him running behind .He bumps into me. I guess he never put away his knife. I crumble to the ground and feel a cry of pain crawl out of my throat. I am not sure what happens next. I am simply in a ball on the ground. All I could feel was the waves of pain rippling through my body. I believe I was till awake. I might have even been mumbling. (or cursing)There isn’t much more to mention about the event. I don’t remember the rest. Oh the time. I have someone visiting soon. I must go.   
My sincerest regards,   
Elizabeth Lincoln 

Jacob  
January 6th, 1868

Dear Journal,  
I apologize for not writing yesterday. Some of us can’t lie in bed and write all day. Well, then again it was kind of my fault that she is stuck in bed. Anyways,I met a woman at the asylum when I killed Elliotson (Oh, did I mention I got a target in London before Evie killed her target? Who’s the better assassin now?) she watched me kill him and then when she was trying to leave the building when I ran into her. I forgot to put my hidden blade away and I stabbed her in the side. I ran by then I watched her crumble to the ground. Oh sod it. I ran down to her side. She is obviously an innocent. She groans. “Oh shit, fuck me.”   
“Uhh maybe later. though now I need to get you out of here. The guards are coming.” I scoop her up, and start running. She is clearly not amused by my sense of humor or my clumsiness. As shown by the fact she is looking at me with daggers sharper than my hidden blade. Though I don’t blame her for that. Through her cursing and groans of pain she told me she lived nearby in Lambeth. She told me her address and I stole a carriage and placed her in the back. She is losing more and more blood. I driver faster though she screams with every bump. I finally reach the house.  
I pull her out of the back of the carriage and carry into the upstairs room where she lives. I lay her down on her bed. She creaks at me “ Bandages are in the chest.” I search through and find the bandages. I pull off her outer dress and and undo her corset. I finally look at the wound. I appears to have avoided any major organs which is very helpful. Though the wound is still not good. It is covered with blood and it slowly pulsates with her breath. It needs stitches. I dig back into the chest and find a thread and needle. I quickly use a candle to help bend the needle into a curved shape. I thread the needle and carefully begin to sew the wound shut. Once I am finished, I grab a rag to clean up the extra blood. Then I wrap the bandage around her stomach. I sit back and observe my work. I have some medicine on me, so I give her bit of medicine and I can see she became a bit more relaxed. She soon drifts off to sleep. I should probably watch her tonight, considering I caused the injury in question. I check her pulse every so often to make sure her heart is still beating. I mostly just sit in the window and watch the city. I love just looking at the city. It helps me realize why I’m here and who I’m fighting for. I watch the sun rise over Lambeth. Eventually,The woman awakes. I walk over to her.   
“Good morning. Do you need anything tea maybe water.” She groans   
“If you could not stab me next time the would be beautiful.” She is still displeased with me. She isn’t looking to well this morning. Her black curly hair has curled up in a ball on her head. Some of it is knotted together with sweat and blood. “I never asked you your name what a terrible host I am.” She still has that angry bite in her voice.   
“My name is Jacob, Jacob Frye.”  
“ Oh I see, Well my name is Elizabeth Lincoln.” She puts up her hand to shake mine. I take it. Her hand is cold and clammy.  
“ Lincoln, as in the president?” She laughs  
“ Well, sort of it is a complicated story.” I look down at her. She is going to survive. There is some good humor that has returned to her face. It was about ten A.M. at that point. I told the gang we were going to attack a stronghold at ten thirty.   
“Well, I must go. Thank you for being such a wonderful host. I do believe I will be seeing you soon Ms. Lincoln.”  
“I will see you then Mr. Frye.” With that I jumped out the window with a smile on my face. Well, I just visited her again yesterday on the 5th. She has started moving around. She has enough money that she can pay the daughter of the woman downstairs to take care of her. I don’t know where she gets her money though. She is richer than most. Well, it is time for me to check on her again and make sure she is alright.   
Good day,   
Jacob Frye


	3. Peace and I are Strangers Grown.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob continues on his missions. Eliza becomes accustomed to her home on the rails.

October 31st 1914  
Lydia Frye  
I had to get my grandfather and my grand-aunt out of doge. The planes attacks harder and stronger every night. I am exhausted. I have continued missions. I have taken care of my family. I continue to serve the British government. I miss my husband. He left me a few months ago. I have heard little from the front besides the massive casualties. I still receive letters every few weeks. I can’t help but worry. I also can’t raise a child by myself. I have been pregnant for only a couple months. Sam doesn’t know. I won’t tell him until later. He doesn’t need the extra pressure now. I have missions I need to complete anyway. He would try to stop me. These missions are the only ways I can bring him home. I need to make sure my child has a father. I can’t let them grow up without a father. I have seen other assassins go through that. Weather someone lost one or two parents at a young age, or they lost a spouse. I saw it change them. However, the parents knew what they were getting into. Assassins don’t retire often. Even if they do manage to grow old.  
I cannot seem to make myself rest. I have to continue to work constantly. I don’t sleep anymore. I simply work and work with no respite. I don’t know whether or not I prefer to live this way. I have never experienced any other to live. I work hard and I hope in the end it gets me somewhere. I have to go. Someone is knocking at my door. I probably shouldn’t be writing this down. Someone might find this journal. I may not want them to have a record of my life. Though grandfather made me keep a journal as a child. So I guess I never stopped. Anyway, I must go now. I have a guest.  
Sincerely yours,  
Lydia Frye

 

February 8th 1868  
Evie Frye  
Dear Journal,  
My brother as of late has been greatly distracted by a new mission. He has a new “business venture” as he refers to it. He is deeply distracted and smiles a seemingly unhealthy amount. I took him three weeks to find this new target, which is far too long. He is still pursuing this insane notion of having some sort of street gang. He can’t even avoid cutting an innocent woman with his hidden blade. Actually, speaking of her, it was lucky he did that. I try to avoid condoning my brother’s rash decisions, though this one has worked out. She is an expert on templar code. She has greatly assisted Mr. Green and me in our research. She is one of the most intelligent people I have ever met. She not only translates the documents she also investigates into who we need take out next. She, at first, mainly spoke to Jacob. Even then, she is cryptic woman. She never fully tells her story. Only bits and pieces. She speaks with an american accent. Though she very rarely refers to her home. The one sure thing she told me was to call her Eliza. She was brought here by Jacob. Her wound had gotten infected and Jacob couldn’t take care of her anymore. He made us help. She noticed the research, and I allowed her to read the templar plans. I figured if she was a templar she would already know the plans. Also, we have her under nearly constant supervision and with that nasty injury she wasn’t going anywhere. I began talking with her. We joked and became fast friends. I trust her and I know she can help us. She gained her strength rather quickly. She writes nonstop. She says it was just journals. She showed me what it once. It was a recording of what had a happened over the past couple days. She says she just wants to tell her story. She has also a recorded a few possible targets. Though, she wishes to confirm they are templars, before we kill them. I can’t blame her for that. Stay your blade from the flesh of the innocent. Jacob takes over most of these missions. I have my research into the piece of Eden. we both thrive in our respective positions. He is the brawn, Eliza, Mr.Green, and I are the brain. Sadly, we still can’t balance out Jacob’s lack of a brain. He seems to listen more to Eliza than me. At least he is listening to one reasonable voice. They seem close, despite the short amount of time they’ve spent together. Jacob has just returned from his mission. I must speak to him.  
Farewell,  
Evie Frye

February 9th, 1868  
Jacob Frye  
Dear Journal,  
Pearl Attaway is not who I expected her to be. She is better. Her eyes sparkle with secrets. I will never completely know her. That means there is plenty to learn. I wouldn’t say I’m in love her. I would use a different name. We don’t talk much when we are together. We have others things to keep us busy. We are business partners as well, and we do actually work sometimes. Most of our business meetings are unscheduled in her carriage. Our other meetings take place in her residence in Westminster. I haven’t been this happy in so long. We have been going like this for a few weeks now. I weaken her opponents, she returns the favor. I feel as though for the first time I have found peace with someone.  
I should also mention Eliza. We have grown close in her time spent on the train. She listens to all my strange stories, and she… well, she doesn’t talk too much. She mostly listens. She has a sarcastic comment every few minutes. She clearly has wit. She limits what information she lets out. I feel happy around her. Not like Pearl. It is more like how you feel when you first meet a good friend. When you know a little about and you only see the good parts. When you only make each other happy because you don’t know their flaws yet. They just are nice and happy to see you. You are also happy to see them. I don’t know what will happen to either of them. I am just happy to be around both of them.  
Oh, I have a meeting with Pearl soon. I must go.  
Your dear friend,  
Jacob Frye 

February 11th, 1868  
Elizabeth Lincoln  
I finally have a few moments. These past couple days of research with Evie have been stressful. We know there is something at St. Paul’s though Evie still needs to go there to figure out what is going on. I have enjoyed reading her research. She is very careful in studying her documents. I can tell her and Henry are close. Though, I don’t see a relationship happening between them. They are both very business oriented. I would be shocked if they let down their guards enough to even flirt. For example, Evie refuses to call him Henry. Refusing to call someone by their first name does not make two people seem very in love.  
Jacob, on the other hand, falls in "love" at the drop of a hat. He trusts (as well as flirts) with everything that moves. He is naive. He is brash and doesn’t give a shit about what he does. He doesn’t know what it means to have your mistakes hurt others. To watch as your poor decisions killed someone… to watch as… I am sorry how did I even get there. I can’t remember it now. I won't remember what happened. I have had to much time to remember the past. If I do remember I am liable to scream, and I don’t need them to know my inner turmoil. I can’t let anyone know who I am. They don’t need to know. I care about them. For their safety as well as my own. They don't need to know.  
Back on the original topic, Jacob has informed me of his exploits with a Miss Pearl Attaway.She was originally the one I was supposed to use to climb the ladder to Starrick before I got caught up in this mess. He never stops speaking of her. He is always smiling when he talks of her. It is obvious they are “close”. I can spot a relationship like that from a mile away. I am happy they are "working" together. It keeps me from thinking anything. I often get too close to people to fast. It isn't always in a romantic way, even friendships are dangerous for me. Though, people don't necessarily notice it. Despite his carelessness, Jacob has grown on me very quickly. It makes it hard when I have to abandon that relationship. Attaway at least helps me keep my distance. I care about him. I honestly do. I have to keep him safe from me.  
I am, however, shocked that he is working with Starrick’s cousin. I assume she told him who she was. Though I might be able to use this relationship to my advantage. Why he would trust her does confuse me. I guess hormones beat all other common sense . Wait, Jacob just got back from his latest mission. I must speak with him. I will be right back. 

 

She’s dead. Attaway is dead. Jacob killed her. The woman with gleaming eyes he talked about often. The hidden personality. He… I…. what… how… I didn’t know he could do that... he could be so soulless? To kill someone he so clearly cared about. Early today he was telling me how funny she was. He could just get rid of her like that. I don’t know if i know him as I thought I did. Then he curls up in a ball on the couch and cries like have never seen a human cry before. He is inconsolable and He won’t even stand up. The sobs ripple through his body like an earthquake. It almost feels as the train is shaking with his emotions. Evie is out. I have to comfort him. He is so pitiful otherwise. I sing him an old song. I don’t know the name though it feels as though I don’t need to. I remember my mother singing it. It was about a young girl. She spent her whole life being alone. Then one day a young boy changed that. The girls moment of joy taken be the one person who was supposed to protect her. Her mother. Her mother took her away and she ended up dying. Fit the mood, I guess. We stay this way for about an hour. Me singing. Him crying. I play with his hair. I try to brush it out. It is always messy and sticking out in random places. He braids Evie's hair often. Maybe it will comfort him. I must apologize. This entry must come to an end. I have to go. He needs me. He has started to recover. I have to make sure he is okay. Goodnight.  
Your old friend,  
E. Lincoln  
.


	4. Everyone has a Price.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get a look into Eliza's background in America. The twins must continue with life after the Death of Miss Attaway.

Saturday, September 13th, 1862  
Eliza,  
I have to pay so much just to stay free. I have been running for god knows how long. I have been trying to get to the union line. I have finally found it. I found two soldiers from Indiana I thought they would help me. Instead, I got a bayonet to my throat. “You a rebel?” One of them says to me. I put my hands up.  
“Sir, I don’t want to fight. I am contraband.” The northerners are supposed allow us to at least follow the troops. That is what Jack told me at least. Jack was a white labourer who my master would sometimes call in to do jobs that we slaves couldn’t do because it required skill. He also taught me how to read and write after my mother died. Jack don’t fail me now.  
“ you think we care about slaves like you? Your kind is so lazy. You just take the union’s rations and suck resources from the troops who need it.” He moves the point of his blade close to my throat. The other soldier next to him speaks and puts a hand on his shoulder.  
“ Just calm down, Arnold. You don’t know this girl is useless yet.” The first soldier lowered his weapon “ You don’t know what this girl’s been through.” The second soldier examines me for a moment. “ How old are you?”  
“Sixteen sir.” I quiver back. I am still trying to stop my entire body from shaking. He sits back for a moment and he almost seems disappointed.  
“Alright. You seem in good shape and you look white. How about you do a little favour for the union?” He grins. I have no idea what he is talking about  
“What do you want?” I am wary. I am scared he will want me to walk right in front of a confederate gun. He looks up at the sky for a moment as if he was considering what to request.  
“ Find information on the confederate movements. If you do I can promise a good word with McClellan.”  
“They won’t just let one woman waltz into camp.” He smiles  
“Well, my dear that just seems to be a problem you need to figure out on your own. Go now before my friend becomes too trigger happy.” I start to run. What am I going to do. Where am I going to find information like that quickly. It is morning. I have today to find that information today at the very least. I take a moment and look around. I focus for a moment everything turns a strange pale blue. Except for the confederate camp which pierces through the blue with a dark red the shade of blood. It is the same colour my master was when I focused on him. I run toward it. I don’t know how long I run for. It feels like forever. Though, it isn’t even midday when I am sharpening a stick while hiding behind a tree. I watch for anyone leaving on a horse. Finally, I make out a horse and rider making for the camp exit. I run ahead and set up a trip wire with a few vines around a hundred feet beyond that exit. I Then hid in the tree line. I wait. I breath while trying to calm myself down. He falls. I pull my stick sword and point it at his neck.  
“You have information that I need your going to give it to me or you won’t be breathing for much longer.” I stare him down. He looks like he sees a ghost. I think he is afraid the ghost is him in a couple minutes. I pull him behind the tree line. I search his pockets until I find a piece of paper wrapped around three cigars. Those plans are mine now. I pin the message boy to the ground by his throat. “You are going to go to your planned destination, and hand them...” Shit. I didn’t plan this part through. I begin to search through my pockets. He takes advantage of my moment of distraction, and he flips me over and points his pistol at my head. The only weapon I have is pinned under his knee.  
“Oh, bless your heart. Darling, you don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into do you?” He dropped his scared little boy shtick and is now the evil troll. Time slows for a moment. I take inventory of each of my actions. I grind my teeth. Breath. Close my eyes. Breath. I feel the metal freeze a small circle on my skull. Breath. Mama I’m sorry. Breath. I promised you I would help end this. Breath. I open my eyes. Breath. I feel my very bones demanding me to fight back. Breath. It moves to fight. Breath. To kill. It is my very being, my life going back thousands of years,as the memories of those gone suddenly come rushing back to me. Breath. The gun is in my hand, and there is a whole in his head. Then I collapse on the ground next to him. Those two seconds of strength took two weeks of energy. I ‘ve never killed anyone before. Should I bury him. He was fighting to keep me from having freedom. He would not extend a luxury such as a burial to me. As far as I am concerned, he killed my mother, and all those who fought and died in order to keep slaves down. There were some dry leaves lying around. I collect them and use them to burn the body.  
“May the Richmond go with you.” the ashes of his body float up as he burns. I grab the cigars and run back to the union line. I award the cigars to the two soldiers who first ambushed me. The one he didn't point a gun at me laughed.  
“Everyone has a price. I guess we discovered yours.” He pockets the cigars and promises to mention me to his superiors. This was first step in joining the union. I didn’t know it yet, but that moment through me into a centuries long war that had been fought underground. I didn’t know that this would make me a play piece in that war. That the big players would just move and use me as needed. I never actually got to play the game that was my life. 

 

February 16th, 1868  
Evie Frye  
Dear Journal,  
I finally discovered the location of Ms. Thorne. I will finally atone for my mistake of letting her go at St. Paul’s. She has hours left to be alive. I will miss her. She was a formidable opponent. I may not have anything else to distract me from Jacobs little games. Henry, Eliza, and I have nearly discovered the location of the vault. We can only hope that we are ahead of Ms. Thorne.  
Jacob is still recovering from the Miss Attaway incident as I have named it. I am sure he would refer to it with stronger language. I feel sorry for my brother. He just trusted her to quickly and it ended up getting burnt. You can’t trust people that quickly like that. Thankfully, Eliza has been there for him when I can’t. I would like to see those two end up together. She could keep him in line.  
She has eagle vision, as I have learned recently. She would be a good addition to the brotherhood. She is a master of reconnaissance. I got her to tell me she worked for the union during the American Civil War. That is as much as she is willing to tell me about her past. She hasn’t said in what capacity. I don’t know how to get her to tell me. She talks so often yet says so little. Wow look at the time. I must go. I have an appointment with Miss Thorne.  
Sincerely,  
Evie Frye.  
February 16th, 1868  
Jacob Frye,  
Sod the little bitch. How could she do that? Lie to me. Make me care. Then force me to end her life. How could she do that? I had never even threatened her. She pulls this stunt. I should have killed her the moment I met her. It would have saved me so much time. Dame you Attaway. I hope Hell is warm enough for you. I got you and your cousin is next. I hope an eternity of pain makes up for what you have done to me.  
Eliza is the one person who has kept me sane. She listens to my rants. She truly cares. Evie, Henry, and I have discussed trying to get her into the brotherhood. She would make a great addition. I would also get to be with her more. Whenever I mention anything about us being in a relationship, or even mentioning a friendship. She gets nervous and changes the subject. We are friends she just refuses to admit it. She can’t admit it. It seems as if it would hurt her to much. I let her keep her distance for now. I still need to recover from Attaway still. We will see after that.  
Your dearest friend,  
Jacob Frye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. The story in the beginning is Eliza just before the battle of Antietam. It is referring to the copy of special order 191. Now the death of a messenger and Eliza being the one to find the orders is something I made up. Though It was discovered by Corporal Barton W. Mitchell of the 27th Indiana. Neither of the two soldiers are the corporal. I made the two soldiers up. Those orders were actually discovered by Union troops and they helped the Union win the battle (Well the kind of won the battle it was complicated. Though the battle could have gone much smoother. ) Sorry, I am an American history nerd.


	5. To dreadful a practice for this open air.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob gets rid of his next target. We learn about Eliza's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I took longer to upload this one. It takes on some pretty heavy topics. I wanted to make sure I wrote it well. So please read at your own risk.

June 13th 1862  
Eliza  
I ran away. They killed her. I couldn’t stop them. Though, I guess it was all my fault they did that. She wanted to protect me, and it ended up killing her. I killed her. I need to remember what happened. I have to write it down. I have to tell my story. No, her story.  
My mother was born on the same plantation she died on. Her father died from exhaustion when he was in his fifty's. I believe that is how old he was, no one ever told me hisage. By the time her father had died, my mother had already given birth to me and my older sisters. She spent her childhood (If you could call it that.) in the burning Virginia sun. All she ever spoke of the time was work, food, sleep. With far too little of the last two. My master gave us just enough food to work the day away. Though we never got enough to feel full. We slept when the sun went down if the work was done. We would sometimes work into the night if it was a harvest. She believed escaping was impossible so she never left. I can’t stand to write down what happened to her. Her life wasn’t as long as it should’ve been. She deserved more than she got. What will happen to my sisters. My mother and I won’t be there to take care of them anymore. All I know is I have to find the union line. I know they might take me as contraband of war. At least some officers are accepting us. Slaves are going to the line in huge masses. We can nearly taste what has evaded us our entire lives. We want to work for ourselves. For once to be able to claim even our own bodies, our own souls, as ours. I have to go. I need to keep moving If I am ever going to find the army.  
Sincerely,  
Eliza 

March 30th 1868  
Jacob Frye

I returned home from my mission with an exceedingly unlucky politician. I returned to the train to find Eliza alone planning another mission. “You got a letter. It seems to be from an interesting character.” She had a point. When I picked up the envelope a small black feather had been pressed in with the seal. The letter also seemed to have red splotches all around the envelope. Blood maybe.  
“He seems like a kind fellow.” I look up at her. She grins at me.  
“ Just your type then.” I walk next to her. She is standing in front of the map of London. soon I place my arm on her shoulders.  
“ We need to go at Westminster sometimes soon.” still not giving any attention to me. “ It is going to be the most difficult borough yet.” She rubs her chin the way she does when She’s thinking. I choose now to speak.  
“They will fall like all of the others.” She stares at me sarcastically.  
“ You’re good, but you're not perfect. You need to be more careful. You risk exposing the brotherhood.” I laugh.  
“It is alright my dear. Don’t worry about me.” I look down at the letter in my hand. I pull open the seal. And read the letter.  
My dearest Frye,  
I would like to cordially invite you to dine with me at my my theater in London. The theater and address are in closed within this letter.  
Your dearest,  
Maxwell Roth.

What the hell? Maxwell Roth. The leader of the blighters wants to have dinner with me? The shock must have registered on my face because Eliza walks over to me. She grabs the letter out of my hand. “Wait,” She reads it quickly then furrows her back eyebrows. Her slightly darkened curls with her frown.  
“You aren’t going.” She tries to throw the letter in the fire but I grab it back from her before she can.  
“ We could gather intelligence. We need to know where his strongholds are. We could…”  
She gets in my face. “He is showing you his ace. It has to be a trap. You will end up dead. He is trying to decapitate the enemy.”  
“ I know it is a trap that is why I am going to use this moment to kill him.”  
“ How many guards do you think he will have. You can fight, but you can’t fight off all of the best of London.” I smirk.  
“Fine I won’t go.” Then I kiss her forehead. She is unfazed by the gesture, however she does not choose to return it.  
“God You’re an idiot.” She returns to her studying as I run off the train. I kept the address and the theater name. It appears I have a dinner date tonight.  
When I arrive at the theater there is a doorman there waiting for me. He ushers me inside. I meet Roth who is sitting on the stage. Eliza and Evie would probably kill me right now if they saw me here. That is why they don’t need to know. I sit down at the table.  
“ Ah, My dear Mr. Frye. So kind of you to join me.” I sit down.  
“May I have a drink?”  
“A toast my dear Frye. To a new friendship!” I raise my glass to meet his. The tips of the cups tap gently. We both down our drinks. It burns my throat on it way down. My eyes don’t water at this anymore. I have gotten used to strong drink at this point. It is disgusting, but comforting at the same time.  
We both lower our glasses after a long chug. He has a long scar crossing his face. He looks at me with devilish eyes. That seem to want to creep into my soul. There is a slightly insane smile that crosses his lips. I can tell if he wants to keep me as a pet or eat me for dinner. His tightly fitted suit expands with his breath.  
“So, Mr. Frye I would like to include you on some future ehh, shall we call them, ‘ventures’ of mine.” I grin and hold up my cup.  
“ The deal is good as done Mr. Roth.” 

 

March 35th 1868  
Jacob. 

Roth is dead. I nearly was as well. He almost killed some children that were innocent. I couldn’t let him. Of course, I almost died in the process. Thank god for Eliza. She knew I would meet Roth and she tracked me to the theater when I went to kill Roth. She followed me inside. Once the fire started she was able to carry me out of the theater to safety. She took me back to the apartment where I took her when she was injured. She laid me down on her bed and gave me some salve to help with the coughing and to get the smoke out of my lungs. I lie in her bed and stare at her looking out the window. It was the first time her hair was down. It was extremely thick and black. If flowed over her shoulders like a waterfall. The beaming lights of London reflected gently off her skin. She sipped what I believed to be coffee as she stared out the window. She had taken one of Evie’s military outfits. She had taken off the coat. The corset fit tightly to her body showing her fit figure. She turned around to check on me our eyes meet for a moment and for a moment sadness and fear seem to pass quickly through her eyes before she cuts the emotion off. She returns to my side to examine me. She pulls down the sheet to rub the salve on my bear chest. Her fingers move light across my chest. I feel the slight pressure as she gently heals me. She has returned her face to its stoic base state. “Why don’t you ever talk about where your from?” Her face becomes stern now.  
“ Why do you need to know?”  
“ We’ve known each other for so long now. Why can…”  
“Jacob, please stop!” She slams her hand on my bed. It makes a soft “pumpf” She stops moving. Then she curls up in a corner. She starts crying and rocking back and forth. ‘no, no, no, please know stop please!! Please!!” Tears are streaming down her face. I start to get out of bed. She is a mess. Her breathing is getting faster. She is hyperventilating.  
“Eliza? Eliza?! Are you okay?” I don’t know if I should touch her or just leave her be. I need to get her breathing under control. Her eyes fix on me for a moment then she hides under the bed. I figure I just need to leave her. She curls up in a ball. She is sobbing and she can’t control her breathing. I don’t sleep. I listen to her breaths in order to make sure she is still alive. Eventilually, her breathing evens out and she falls asleep. I wake up ahead of her in the morning. I run down the street and by some food for breakfast. When I get back I manage to coax her out from underneath the bed. Her hair has turned I to a ball of tears and snot. I give her some food. She looks ashamed. “I didn’t want you to see me like that.” She stares intensly at her plate. “I’ve been fine for so long now.” I don’t know what to say.  
"Why did you react like to me simply asking about your past?" She takes a deep breath then turns her back to me. She undoes her corset and asks me to help her pull it off. As I lift it up the scars become visable on her back. They stretch across her back in a Web of immense pain.  
“I… what happened to you?”  
“ I refused to... to have children for my master. He had gotten me pregnant when I was fifteen and I ended the pregnancy before the baby was born. I refused to bring a slave into the world. He heard what I did. He punished me for it.”  
“Oh, my god.” She asks me to help her get corset back on. After she pulls on her corset she turns and looks at me.  
“There is another part.” She takes a moment and breaths. “ My master tried to sell me. My mother wouldn’t let the overseers take me. She killed one of them. The other overseer killed her right in front of me.” Her breathing gets unsteady again. I grab her hand. “He looked at my mother body and spat at her and… and… he called her a whore and... “ Eliza disappears in a puddle of tears. I pull her close to my chest. I feel her arms curl around me. We sit there like that for a moment. just holding each other. Not moving.I kiss her head. She smiles through her tears. “Jacob… I…”  
“I know.” 

Eliza  
April 3rd, 1868

I don’t know how it happened. I told him about my mother. I trusted him because he trusted me. He has a personality that drew me in to him. An aura that was to alluring to deny. He came back to my flat. He jumped through the window and rapped his arm around me and started to kiss my neck. His fingers started to creep to the top of my corset.  
“Do you want to?” I turn to look at his eyes. He is smiling.  
“Yes, why not.” I can’t contain my my smile at the thought. The kissing becomes more intense and I feel him slowly undoing my corset. I feel the electric shock of his affection. The sudden electricity of being truly loved and wanted by someone. I begin to return the favor. I figure London is almost ours. Why not celebrate.


	6. The Story of Tonight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where in the world is turned upsidedown.

Eliza  
August 12th, 1863  
Dear journal,  
I come to Washington after the battle at Gettysburg. The president wanted to speak with me. He seems to have heard of me through McClellan. Even though McClellan does not have the president's respect at the moment, or the president's military appoinment. I have continued doing work with the Army of the Potomac. I have done everything from laundry to nursing to spying on the enemy. I have gotten rather good at the latter one. However, no matter how much intelligence I give the generals, their systems of communication are so slow that it doesn’t matter anyway what I tell them. Every so often I would get information to the top fast enough. Anyway, my intelligence collection has been good enough. I came to DC in order to meet the president. He asked me to work directly for him.  
“ I need someone to keep an eye on my generals.” He asked In a voice that was higher than I expected.  
“You don’t trust them?”  
“One of my former generals has a chance of taking my office from me. So, in short no.”  
I think for a moment. Is this treason? I am working for my government and against it at the same time.  
“Not all of the generals are okay with working with woman or former slaves for that matter.” He looks up at me.  
“Then it is up to you to figure out a plan. You are seventeen, correct? You escaped from slavery you clearly are intelligent enough to figure this out. I could easily choose someone else and let you be consigned to cooking or sewing for the rest of the war.” The president’s eyes bore Into my soul. He was determined to get me into this job. He noticed my hesitation. “ Listen, you have a stake in this cause that others don’t. You are holding our leaders accountable. I assume you still have family down south. If we win they have a chance at freedom.” I grip the table. My sisters. I haven’t seen them in over a year. He leans back in his chair. He is waiting for my answer. I could save millions of people if I say yes. If we had better generals the war would be over soon. I take a breath.  
“ OK, I will do it.” He seems to relax a bit.  
“ Thank you miss…”  
“ Elizabeth, just Elizabeth.” He examines me for a moment.  
“ Well, it will be nice doing business with you in the future. “ We shake hands. He holds the door for me as I leave his office. Well, maybe I can help the war effort. We shall see what happens with this partnership.  
Sincearly,  
Eliza

Evie  
April 25th, 1868  
dear journal,  
We have almost taken over London. Most of our enemies have been removed of our path. We have loosened Starrick ’ s hold on the people of London. Eliza has been spying around to try to find a way into where Starrick and his henchman hide. We have trained her in some basic assassin fighting and killing methods. She is already showing great promise if she chooses to have a future with the assassins. I could see her going very far. Jacob has explained to me what happened to her in America. I was astonished by the story. She has gone through hell and back. Her and Jacob have gotten closer. They are always laughing and smiling together. I wish they would stay together. I cannot be the one to stay around and take care of my brother for the rest of my life. At least she could try and keep him under control. Heaven knows I couldn’t.  
Mr. Green and I have had somewhat of a falling out. I had to rescue him from templars because he couldn’t manage to get away. I had to compromise the mission in order to save him. I don’t know how I feel about Mr. Green. He is a very intelligent man. He, however, doesn’t have the athletic ability needed of an assassin in the field. I enjoy his company. Though his assassin skills could stand improvement, I respect his mind. He can think on a higher level than anyone I have ever meet. He can find connections in research I never would have thought of. I don’t know if I want a relationship. I have my work and I need to focus on that. I just need to save people. My emotions can come later. Henry is coming and we need to work. London is almost ours.  
Sincerely,  
Evie Frye

Jacob Frye  
May 4th, 1868  
Dear journal,  
I have had the strangest few days of my life. Let me start at the beginning. Evie and I started out this final stretch to the downfall of Starrick. She believes that I was acting without thinking. I was displeased with her lack of action. So, we learned we had to attend the Queen’s ball in order to take out Starrick. We both dress up then manage to deal with each other for a few, long moments on the carriage ride over. Insults were exchanged. When we reached the party, we went our separate ways in order to exercise our plan. I try to stand in a corner and avoid being forced into upper class chater. As I stare into the crowd, I notice a familiar face. The dark skin with her black hair. Her hair is knotted tightly into a bun. Is that Eliza?! She shouldn’t be here. I thought I had finally figured her out. I guess she still hasn’t shown her hand yet. She makes eye contact with me for a moment. Then she moves into a spot where she knows I won’t see her. I don’t follow her. I just stand where I am. What is the she up to? I see Evie doing her job through the window, it is time for me to get going. I climb onto the roof and get my equipment from Abberline. I change quickly then begin the mission. When I remove the corrupt guards from their posts. I signal to Evie to begin her portion of the plan. We now must both find the shroud. I get the map from her and run to the vault where the shroud is being kept. To my dismay, Starrick was already waiting for me there. We fight and as he is about to defeat me Evie jumps In and saves me. When she gets in a tight spot I save her. We continue on like this for a while. Until, Starrick has us both weakened. Then Greenie appears out of nowhere and saves us both. Evie and I kill Starrick and London was officially ours. We emerge from the vault and we know London is safe. Evie and I hug and for a moment in time, we are happy. “ Dear, sister you and I must celebrate this momentous occasion.”  
“Let me guess, you want to consume far too much alcohol. “ she grins at me. Well, I was already drunk on victory might as well get actually drunk.  
We arrive at a nearby pub awhile later. As I sit down I notice a woman with thick black hair. She is now In a military outfit complete with sabre. Her dress I saw her in earlier was gone. She seems more comfortable now. I wander next to her.  
“ I was unaware you planned on attending the Queen’s party.” She takes a swig of her beer. Her eyes turn dark she doesn’t look up at me.  
“ For your own safety, don’t ask.” She glances over at me for a moment all the humor leaves stays out of her eyes for a moment then she jumps back into character.  
“Maybe you should give a speech. Inspire the troops.” She points to the bar and I grin and climb up. I raise my cup.  
1.“ Raise a glass to freedom. Something he never took away.” I look at Henry, Evie, and Eliza. “Raise a glass to the four of us. Tomorrow they’ll be more of us telling the story tonight. Let’s get another round tonight.” I release the last line with extreme exaggeration. I jump down from the bar and walk over to Eliza. She is laughing at me. She still thinks I am an idiot. She wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me In for a kiss. She whispers in my ear.  
“ We do have one more on the way.” She puts my hand on her stomach. I am in shock for a moment. Then I grin.  
“Well, you might have to marry me then.” we kiss again. I never thought I would get married. I never thought I would have the time. Though, I guess the future is always unclear.  
Sincerely yours,  
Jacob Frye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so foot notes.  
> 1\. This dialogue is a quote from Hamilton the musical. ( the song is "The Story of Tonight".) Oh and if you haven't listen to Hamilton because it is great.  
> 2\. So Lincoln probably wouldn't have personally asked an African-American woman to be an important spy. Partly (even though he believed in ending slavery) because he said multiple times that he never believed in total equality. Though, dang it, in syndicate Evie wears pants and has a relationship with someone outside her race. I think the idea of Lincoln not being a racist in this universe would not be to far crazy.  
> 3\. I hope the notes about the historical accuracy are not to annoying. I just wanted to save some people time by just telling them instead of making them Google it.


	7. A new life

April 16th, 1865  
Eliza   
Dear journal,   
This has been a strange few days. That might be the word for it. Try heartbreaking. Shocking. terrifying. Hopeful. Joyous. I don’t know if there is a word for that. Though we will see how this goes. Lee surrendered on the ninth. There is still some fighting, though the south is done. We won. This war has been so long. I was 16 when I began. I am now 18. Everything has changed in the last two years. I have finally gotten the freedom I have desired my entire life. I have made my way up through the ranks of the American military. I had a meeting with the president this afternoon. We were going to discuss the future after the war. What future he needed for espionage. Of course, that meeting was canceled. The death of the president came as a shock. Just after Lee’s surrender at Appomattox, the president was shot dead. The union will struggle the recover without him. Johnson taking over is not an ideal situation. He is as drunk. Every time I saw him he looked like he was about to vomit. He never stood up straight. This reconstruction will take time, even if it is completed. Slavery, though evil, was the basis of the southern economy. I laugh at this thought. Those bastards will finally feel a little of the pain we felt. We will see how they respond. Speaking of slave owners, I met an interesting man a few days ago. Well I was reacquainted with him. He was my former owners brother. We were both in the main hall of the white house. I stopped when I saw him. He was speaking to a hungover vice-president Johnson.   
“How could you let legislation like this pass!?” He was screaming. Though Johnson didn’t seem to really comprehend what was going on.   
“I am the vice-president. The vice president doesn’t participate in voting on constitutional amendments.”  
The man throws his hands in the air. The disgruntled man walks off in my direction. I try to walk away. Well run, actually, though in my distraction, he plows into me, and knocks me over. I hurry up from the floor and I straighten out my skirt. He scans me.   
“You are her? The one who ran? What are you doing here? You should be in a whole in the ground.” His anger flares up again. And He shoves me against a wall by my throat. “I might as well put you there.” I grab his hands and push him down.   
“You would kill a woman in the hall of your government?” He slowly stands up and brushes the blood from under his nose. His pointed features sharpen his death stare. He let's out a laugh.   
“I wasn’t planning on killing anyone. I was going to kill the little slut who made my brother lose everything.” He was clearly not a strong man. Anger can do a lot in the short term, however. He tries to charge at me again. I knock him off his feet. He hits the ground with a smack and a crack from his back. He rolls over and groans.   
“Well, I guess we have different plans.” I hear the president's loud steps rumble through the hall. I hurry and pick the man up. I don’t know if he has a history with the president. If he does I don’t want to figure it out now. I put his arm around my shoulder in order to guide him out of the hall. There is blood dripping from every part of his face. I feel his mouth close to my ear. I feel warm blood dribble in my ear as he speaks,  
“May the father of understanding guide you. My dear.” He threw his head back and laughed as if he should be in an asylum. He said these words every time he left his brother. I never understood what it meant. The president turns a corner and sees what a mess the man is and that I am carrying him.   
“Mr. Starrick, what on Earth are you doing here in that condition? Elizabeth, please I will have one of the staff take him.” He calls down the hallway and a young man in a military uniform takes him away. Once he picks Starrick up and runs off the president turns to look at me. “What did he do to deserve a beating like that.” I wipe some of the blood off my face.   
“I was only responding in equal measure.” The president raised an eyebrow at me.  
“I assume your actions were reasonable then.” We continue walking down the hall.   
“I won’t be president forever. I can’t promise the next president will work with you.” I shrug   
“I will figure it out.” He laughs slightly.   
“I am sure you will. Well, I must go check on Mr.Starrick. No matter how unbalanced he is. I need him to keep good relations with the English.” The president speeds up and then walks away. That was the last time I saw the president. He was going to see a play that evening. I hope he enjoyed it. The Booth family was known for their acting. Though sadly his assassin choose to perform a different show that day.  
I just noticed I didn’t have a last name. As I was contemplating I decided a Lincoln was just removed from the world. I may as well add a new one in the honor of the one who left.   
Sincearly yours,   
Elizabeth Lincoln. 

January 8th, 1869  
Jacob Frye  
It was two in the morning when Eliza went into labour. I have never seen her In more pain. I would finally figure out if I was having a daughter or a son. Eliza was in pain for a long time before a baby came. Well babies. It seems my family can’t avoid having twins. They both are strong baby boys. Then there was the topic of naming them. I was holding the older one and looking at him. “Emmett. He looks like an Emmett William to me.” Eliza rubbed her face our marriage ring and her assassins ring shin in the sun.   
“Jacob, you hate our child don’t you?” She stares at me with a mixture of shock and humor.   
I just laugh.   
“I am known for my reasonable decisions aren’t I? Maybe a fancy name will make him better than me.” She shrugs   
“Though being better than you is not a high bar to set.” I glare at her. She holds the younger of the two twins in her arms. The baby only has spritz of hair popping from the top of his head. Then she smiles for a moment. “How about John?”   
“John isn’t that a boring name?” She looks at me sadly for a moment  
“John is the name of the man who taught me how to read and write. I might be dead, let alone I wouldn’t be in England, if it weren’t for him.” I walk over to her and kiss her.   
“That sounds like a fine name then.” She smiles and kisses the baby. She whispers something I can’t make out to him.   
That is the new life of our little family.   
With Love,   
Jacob Frye


	8. I dreamed a dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We hear a few words from one of the younger Frye twins. Evie has a horrifying dream. ELiza has more issues with employment.

July 4th, 1867  
Eliza Lincoln 

My dearest journal,   
This has been the single worst independence day I have experienced in my life as a free person. Mr. Johnson is not doing his job. He has chosen to ally with a group called the templars. I have read about them. They apparently are not the kindest people. Johnson seems convinced the south can rebuild itself, or is hell bent on destroying this country again. Because of course the southern slave owners will willingly and easily give up a system that provided them with money and resources for generations. Johnson is not helping anyone. He is now trying to get me sent to London to pacify Mr. Starrick. Starrick has been increasingly trying to control me and my and my work. He wants me to hunt down assassins, the enemy of the templars. I have to play both sides. I need to turn in enough of them that he is not suspicious. Though, I also can’t cripple the people who are fighting him. I have to make them both work for me. I hear I may be sent to London, which according to some is a templar stronghold. They must want rid of me. Maybe England will treat me better than America. 

January 9th, 1869  
Evie Frye  
Dear journal,   
It has taken me awhile to write this down. It is nothing but a dream though it makes me no less unsettled. I was helping Mr. Dickens with an investigation in an older junkyard that was filled with broken carriage parts. There were some papers spread on the ground. I was to exhausted to read them. Mr. Dickens was worried I would be too exhausted to stand anymore. Mr. Dickens instructed me to rest for a moment. I sat on a small palate and fell asleep almost immediately.   
I woke to find the same bleak sight I saw when I feel asleep. I continue my investigation. I go read what the letters said. It started “My dearest Frye.” Okay, that is an interesting note to start on. Considering I do not believe Henry would write a letter to me then leave it out. Eliza would never be so careless. I read through the letter and the writer is clearly infatuated with either me or my brother. When I finish reading I notice it is signed Elizabeth. The only Elizabeth I know is Eliza. Why would Eliza even use that name? When Jacob introduced us she went by Eliza. She hasn’t gone by that name since she left the United states. In the midst of my confusion the rush of a carriage hurries by on the street. I hear a woman screaming inside. My thoughts of Eliza soon leave my mind and I immediately chase the carriage. There is a small caravan of blighters tailing her carriage. I easily cut my way to the front and take control of the lead carriage. I climb to the top and plunge my hidden blade into the neck of the driver. The scarlet spray is pulled back on to the bench. I push the body off the carriage and crash down in the puddle of blood. I have to take a moment to regain my balance. I yell down to the woman in the carriage. She asks me to take her into lambeth. Just as we pass over the border she tells me stop in front of a worn down house. The building seemed to be sagging with the weight of age. I call down to her.   
“We are here miss.” a high pitched, and somewhat forced, upperclass sounding voice responded.   
“Oh thank you so much. May I see the face of my rescuer?” I jump down into the carriage with her. As I open the door a red liquid trickles out onto my shoe. I look up and there is a man standing over a woman’s body. His face is covered with a bag. You can only see his eyes. His eyes are gray. Though the color of his iris seems move in waves as if an ocean storm was raging in his brain. His eyes float up to me for a moment. He is wearing a thick black coat and he has a long butcher knife in his right hand. It has the woman’s blood on it. After a moment, he swings his knife at me. The blade plunges into my side and I crumble in a ball on the floor of the carriage. He leans in close to my ear. His voice is slipping out of his mouth as if something is trying to stop it.   
“ You will meet me again. And you won’t be able to stop any of this.” He twists the knife in my stomach and I cry out. My legs are now covered in the woman’s blood. I stare at the body. I still can’t bring myself to say who it was. He takes the knife and shoves me out of the carriage.   
Before I hit the ground I wake up on my bed. Mr. Dickens is standing over me.   
“I say Ms. Frye you did seem not to sleep very well.” I rub away the tiredness in my eyes.   
“I apologize. It was only a dream.” I stand up. “I believe I need to go rest now.” I must leave for now. This has become dreadful enough for one entry.  
Sincerely yours,   
Evie Frye.

John Frye  
Feb 8th, 1874

Hi, my mum told me I Ned to rite more. She say that a good boy can rite. I am 5 year old. Dady say that riting don’t matter as much as fitting. Oh, I fergot I can’t call them that. Jacob say if people new my dady or mum were them I could get hrut. Emm has do the same thing. I should probably tell U, that is my brother Emmett. He is smart and strong. We play together a lot. There Is a girl named Clara who take care of us when Jacob and Eliza are busy. My parents are both important. They kep London gong. Jacob said he might tak some trainers to India some time this year. I is young though. So I probably won’t go. I hop I can go thow.I might git to see aunt Evie if I can go. I don’t remember her much. Though she seems cool. I hope I meet her. Alrite   
Clara said I rote fine for today. I need to play. BYE.


	9. Dead Girl Walking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza comes in to contact with an old enemy who doesn't seem to want to forgive her

Eliza Lincoln  
April 9th,1874  
My dearest husband,  
I hope you can report that India has been very kind to you. I believe London has not been so kind to me. An old acquaintance that I had hoped to never see again has arrived here on orders from the president of the United States. Apparently the powers-that-be do not feel comfortable with my estrangement from the United States. He is not a welcome sight. Him and I have a long history of disagreements. Also he blames me for the death of his family members. In case you were curious, his last name is Starrick. Some intelligence I have gathered seems to imply that he is looking for me. He has been trying to take back control of London gangs. As if that were an original idea. I do not, as of this moment, believe myself or the gang to be in imminent danger. I will say that if he wants a fight he will receive it.   
Now on to happier topics. I hope Evie is doing well. Did she ever actually marry Henry? I know she still maintains her last name. Though, then again, I am married to you and I still have my last name. I can be sure, however that she is giving the recruits the proper training. It is good that our two cultures are able to share what we both have learned in order for our mutual improvement. It is also good that Evie has been able to act as an ambassador between the Indian brotherhood and the English brotherhood. We cannot always assume that the West has all the answers.   
I would like to tell you that I have continued to train Clara. Even though she is only fifteen, she has shown great potential in espionage and as a future assassin. She's a very capable leader and can easily get people twice her age to follow her. I could see her possibly replacing you as the head of the gang someday.   
I would like to end this letter by simply saying I miss you and I cannot wait for your return home in the next weeks.  
Stay alive,  
Eliza Lincoln. 

April 12th, 1874  
Mrs. Lincoln,   
I believe the times we met in the past have been unfortunate. This present time seems to follow that same pattern. I know you've been looking for me, and I know you know what I'm here for. For you have constantly causing me extreme pain. Mrs. Lincoln you have caused enough pain among my family. How many of their deaths have you caused. Let me count. The first my cousin Pearl Attaway. The next Crawford Starrick. Finally, my brother. Your espionage for the union killed his son. My brother eventually committed suicide. I do not blame you for running away. My brother didn't know how to control his slaves. However, when you chose to spy for the union you immediately became an enemy of my family. And then you go in actively join the assassins. Excuse the threat, but many people would be better off if you were dead. I would rather hate for poor John and poor Emmet to go through that. Imagine their little faces when they find out mum is dead. Still you have one way out of this fate. Switch sides. You have done it before you can do it again. You tell us all the assassin secrets train us in their ways and maybe your sons will have a mother. I can promise nothing for your husband. He has two large a target on him. He will die in soon if I have any say in it. Should I mention that I am the new Templar in control of London. Yes, we finally found someone to replace Crawford. Therefore, I have access to his gangs and friends in London. I have spies everywhere. You cannot hide from me. If you even peek your head out to check for safety, I will shoot it off from there. Your order can't protect you. Your creed can't protect you. Accept my offer. You have no choice. I hope you have a fine day miss Mrs. Lincoln.  
Your obedient servant,   
William Starrick

 

Clara O’Dea  
June 8th, 1874  
Dear diary,   
The past weeks have been rather strange. Eliza is becoming increasingly nervous. She jumps at the smallest noise. She has began to spend much more of her time fretting over her children. She is always watching them from a distance. When I asked her what was going on she avoided my question. So, because she trained me to be an assassin, I checked her correspondence. There were some letters from a Starrick. I am extremely worried for her safety I need to ask her about this now. She just returned I will be right back.  
Well…she... she… she might be running out of time. She must prepare for a fight. Starrick’s men have apparently closed in on her. When I asked her, she said she was most worried about her boys. Ever since the trainees return from India, John has been trying to spend more time with her. They both have become even closer than they were before. With the new threats this worries Eliza. She is scared he will get hurt. “I have worked my whole life to be able to have a family that was mine. Now the person I had to take it from wants it back.” She looked tired. Bags were beginning to form around her eyes. She hasn't slept in days. She has been running around London trying to get Starrick before he gets her. I told her I would get the children to help. She turned down the offer. She said it was too dangerous for them.  
Jacob has been asking me about what was happening. He is worried about her. She doesn't talk as much anymore. She started keeping to herself. I told him what I knew. He wants to get the gang involved but Eliza rejects that idea as well. She sees this as her fight and her fight alone.   
When I finally got her to talk to me for more than a moment, I asked her what can be done. She told me to keep the children out of the way. Starrick's men are everywhere and she doesn't know when they will attack. Eliza just asked me to keep the boys away from her. For their own safety.  
I have taken over even more of the boys training and watch them more than I used to. They both are growing so fast. John is exceedingly tall for his age. He can also carry large weights. He does very well in knife training, though he can’t seem to master stealth. Emmett on the other hand preferred education to fighting. He is a good reader and writer for his age. He will learn quickly. Eliza is returning to the train hideout. She is shaking and she is covered in water. She has cuts all over her body. I have to take care of her.   
Farewell,   
Clara


	10. Best of wives and best of woman

"Eliza come back to sleep."  
"I have an early meeting."  
"It’s still dark outside."  
"I know, I just have to write something down."  
"Why do you fight like you’re running out of time."  
"Shhh"  
"Come back to bed that would be enough."  
"I’ll be back before you know I’m gone."  
"Come back to sleep"  
"This meetings at dawn."  
"Well I’m going back to sleep."  
"Hey, I love you."  
"Love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me for being vague. The song the dialogue is based off of is "Best of Wives and Best of Women" sooo if you listen to that song in context of the musical Hamilton. It might be foreshadowing... Or not. You just have to wait and find out.


	11. Who Lives, Who Dies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for this chapter.

Jacob Frye  
July 4th, 1874

Eliza left the house early this morning. She left before dawn. I just fell back asleep. When I woke up I discovered her gone. Clara told me about the threats. She is going to kill him. She is going to kill the last Starrick. Oh no. He is heavily guarded. They are not people she can out run. I have spied on his guard. Both of us together couldn’t fight them off. I found a note on the table. I dart out the door. She is already out here somewhere. I use eagle vision. Where is she!? Dammit! She is too far away for me to find her that way. I notice a lot of red coats moving to my right. I balance on a roof as I just keep one foot moving in front of the other. Her name bounces in my head with every step. What does she want? Honor? No she is smart enough to know she doesn’t need that. I freeze for a moment. The idea trickles down the back of my neck. Freezing my spine and forcing me to a stop. He threatened her family. The boys and I. She would die before he hurt us. That seems to be exactly what she is planning on doing. I see a thin black shape slip in between the buildings. I charge in that direction. I barely pull myself to a stop before falling full speed off the edge of a building. She killed Starrick immediately I already see his body on the ground. His men are attacking her in droves. All of them at once. I could still see her in the crowd of red. She was cutting them down as fast as she could. Though they were going to over power her. I quickly jump down and start helping her cut through the crowd. I am a few feet away from her. She doesn’t notice me. She is to busy trying to stay alive. The bodies fall in sprays of red. I hear their screams as they die. I don’t think about what I am doing anymore. They are targets. They aren’t people. The only people here are me and Eliza. I can’t let them be people, or those close to me won’t be around anymore. The crowd is thinning, and we have almost won. Then, out of nowhere, a stream of crimson and gray pins me to the ground. I see the same person over Eliza. I remember her in that moment. Her black hair is slipping out of her bun and her sweat is sticking her hair to the ground. It falls into little grey. Her body is collapsed in my hands. I feel the tears falling down my face to make puddles on hers. She reaches up to touch my face. “My love, take your time. I’ll see you on the other side.” Her breaths are becoming more sparse. Her air is thin in her last statement. 

“Raise a glass to freedom.”   
She died.   
I couldn’t save her. 

 

The pain is unimaginable. I lie next to her feeling every part of my body crying out for my love to be next to me again. 

It doesn’t work. 

Some say there is beauty in death. They are liers. Everything that was beautiful about Eliza left when she died. The things I loved about her left when she died. Now There is only pain and more pain. So much pain that I can’t feel anything. 

In the midst of my fog I hear a small voice.   
“Daddy, I need you.” I freeze. No, no he wasn’t here. Why was he here!? “Mommy told me to find you. We need to help her.” 

My dearest Jacob,   
I know I left early this morning. I wish I could speak these words to you in person. Though it appears because of the circumstances I cannot tell you in person. Weather it be for your safety or another reason this conversation has not taken place. I will leave you this letter. Tell my boys I love them. My little John and Emm. Tell them their mother had no choice to go. Tell them I died so they would be able to grow up.   
My love, you probably question my sanity. Why I would take such a challenge alone. The truth is, I simply did not have time to figure him out. All I know is that his numbers are growing. I had to destabilize him before he took hold. I had to do this. I knew I could knock him out. Though no matter what happened, he simply has to many guards on him at one time. I knew it had to be a suicide mission. That was my only choice. I am sorry. 

The last thing I need to say is goodbye love, goodbye. I hope one day you will find someone again.   
I only have one request of you. Tell my story. Stop what happened to me from happening to anyone else.   
This has been my last will and testament. I will see you again someday.   
Stay Alive,  
Eliza Lincoln

July 6th, 1874  
John Frye

Dear diary, 

Mum. My mum didn’t look ok when I last saw her. She seemed really hurt. It was really scary. There were people with red crosses. They were mean to my mum and dad. Dad has been sad a lot lately. Mum isn’t around. I try to ask him why she got hurt. He just cries and says “those templars. Those Templar bastards.” He just sobs. I need to find the person who hurt dad. Maybe he will be happy.   
I will be like dad and save the day. I will write again later. 

 

I found the Templars. They were weak and old. I got them into a corner and trapped them. Then I stabbed them with a butcher knife I found at home. It was very messy. I walked home hiding in shadows. I decided I must have changed. I can write better now anyway. I should get a new name. They have me the nickname Jack the lad in India. That trip was so much fun. Getting the picture with dad was great. Sad Emm couldn’t come. Not enough space. I was happy I got to go though. So with my new name in hand and the remnants of my victims on my hands. I proudly March home to my father. He will be so proud. I brought the pins they were wearing to prove to him what I had done. I still have the knife. I walk into my kitchen where my dad is sitting with a pint. His eyes are bloodshot. He has huge bags under his eyes. He hasn’t shaved himself in two days. So his face is covered with stubble.   
I place down the pins in front of him.  
“I got the Templars, dad, mum will be ok now right?” Dad turns around and looks at the pins. It is a red circle with a white cross in it. Dad stares at the pin for a moment. The he looks at me.   
“Where did you get this?” He is scared. I am confused.   
“I got them from the men who hurt mum. They were old. I took them down.” Dad froze for a moment.  
“Those weren’t Templars. They were preachers. You killed innocent people John.”   
I suddenly get very angry.  
“My name is Jack.” I whisper under my breath.   
“Why didn't you ask me first. They were innocent.” He is sobbing now. The. He freezes for just a moment and looks up at me. “Get your coat.” His face is pale and emotionless.   
“But wh…”   
“GET YOUR COAT!” He screams. Then he calms down.   
“We are going for a walk.”   
I don't really have time to finish.   
Goodbye,   
Jack the lad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thank you guys for reading. I am so sorry. I was crying when I was writing Eliza's death scene. I won't be able to post for a couple weeks. I am very busy. I will try to write over the next couple weeks. Though I may not upload regularly until Mid-July. Please kudo and comment. I am so sorry.


	12. Freeze your brain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob writes to Evie in India.

July 6th, 1874  
My dearest Evie,   
There have been many events as of late that have slowly worn me down. The news must be swift, I will deliver it quickly. Eliza and John are dead. They were both killed during a mission. Eliza was trying to kill one of Crawford Starrick's family members. She knew she could take him out. She also knew she wouldn’t be able to overpower the guards. John followed her. He wandered in an tried to save his mother. The Templars killed him as well. The Templars took his body and threw it into the Thames to cover up the fact they murdered a child. I do not even have to body of my son.   
I am afraid that it is just me and Emmett now. Emmett does not understand the severity of what has taken place. He simply misses his mother and brother. This letter has been difficult to write up to this point. That is really all I had to say.  
With love,   
Jacob Frye  
P.S. The funeral for both of them will be in two days from when I am writing this letter. I will send you word of what happens there.

Lambeth Asylum entry report  
Date:July 7th, 1874  
Patient name: John Frye  
Age: 5 years  
Patient number: 24601  
Parents: Jacob Frye (living), Elizabeth Lincoln ( deceased)  
Time of admit:12:00 AM  
Symptoms exhibited:   
Excessive violence, lack of guilt for violence committed. Murder of innocents believing them to be guilty,delusions of grandeur.   
Suggested treatment:   
Isolation, electric shock therapy, lobotomy ( if symptoms worsen) Mercury pills.   
Possible length of stay:  
A year or more. 

Physicians report July 18th, 1874  
Patient: John Frye  
Patient has begun to exhibit more and more erratic behavior as the day moves on. He had to be placed in a straight jacket in order to keep him from hurting himself or others. We have to have three people to feed him. One to hold him in place the other to put the food in his mouth and make sure he swallows. He seemed to be fine the first day of his stay. After electroshock therapy he became more and more unhinged. That is all for today.

Clara O’Dea  
July 25th, 1874  
Dear journal,   
I visited John today. I was disturbed the moment I first saw him. They had gagged him because he was biting his doctors. It was the most pitiful sight I’d ever seen. I demanded they remove the gag. He is only a child. He had only been in a few weeks. He was already gaunt and pale. His small face seems to be defined by his skull bones. He was covered with thick clothing so I couldn’t see if he was eating. He didn’t thrash. He didn’t make noise. He just stared at me. There was extreme pain in his face. His eyes were red with bloodshot and a scar cut across his face. Did they do that to him? What are they doing to him? He looked terrified. He had tears falling down his face. "C...C...Clara?"  
“Yes, it’s me” I smile at him. His face lightens for a moment, then it seems to return to its original dark tone.   
“Where’s daddy”   
“His name is Jacob, dear” I want to reach out and hold him but I know it isn’t allowed.   
“He never let me call him daddy. Why… He never wanted me. Why did he never want me?” The tears fall faster now he is shaking and crying.   
“He’s not your father.” He freezes for a moment  
“What?”  
“Anyone who treats their child like this can claim to be a parent.” The little boy starts crying. I had seen this before. When I was in charge of the children. Many of them had ran away from abusive parents. They thought they deserved the abuse. I simply held them and said those same words. It is automatic to me now. You tell them what they need to hear. I look in the boy’s tearful eyes again. There is anger there. I see his body begin to tense. The anger turns to a rage. He shakes his chair back and forth. The anger and the rage combine into a child's scream. He wouldn’t hurt anyone or anything, he is only five. Though the staff around me treat it as if he was a 100 kg man.   
“Ma’am you must get away from him.” A voice commands behind me.   
“No, he is fine just let me…” I don’t get to finish my statement because then I am dragged out of the room. The door slams behind me. The screams change. They become sounds of pain. I look down the hall away from the door. I just need to walk away. He will get treated. Sometimes the pain helps. I need to talk to Jacob. He needs to know what is happening to his boy.  
Sincerely,  
Clara O’Dea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to write. I have not been in my normal country (or state) of origin for about a month so I haven't had time to write. I should be back on a normal schedule soon and I will be back to once a week uploads.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter. This is my first time posting a fanfiction online. I am still trying to figure this out. So if things like the summary (or end notes) change, it is because I don't really know what I am doing yet. I would really like to read what you guys say in the comments. Leaving kudos or a comment would bring joy to my life. I will try to add a new chapter each week.


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